


squad leader down

by trashcan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M, PWP, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcan/pseuds/trashcan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trust the strategist to make an art out of ravaging Jean, waging war on his senses with an efficiency that was just unfair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	squad leader down

**Author's Note:**

> written for the snkkink meme, prompt here: http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/524.html?thread=1548

Jean shifted on the bed, stomach taut with lust and nervousness combined. He strained his wrists against the repurposed 3DMG belts restraining them to the headboard, but to no avail – Armin had tied them gently, but securely.   
  
“You seem excited for this, _Squad Leader_ ,” hummed Armin, saying Jean's new title with a bit of playful mockery. Jean turned his head in the direction of his voice, but he couldn't see anything through the blindfold. He felt his face flush as Armin gave a light little laugh. “I wonder what your bright-eyed new recruits would think if they saw you like this, all tied up and hard for me.”  
  
A gust of breath by his ear, a feather-light brush of fingers against his side, abruptly punctuated by a pinch to his already-hardened nipples. The sharp pressure relieved itself almost as quickly as it arrived, quickly replaced by a warm moistness. Armin was open-mouthing kisses down his chest. Jean whimpered around the ball gag, taken aback by how utterly helpless his own voice sounded to his ears.  
  
He felt Armin's hair ghost over his face as he leaned in close to say, “You remember the signal, right? If you want me to stop.” Jean just nodded his head vigorously, stopping being the last thing on his mind. Fuck, his dick was so hard he thought it might burst.  
  
Armin laughed again, a trace of self-consciousness still in his voice that Jean noted with some annoyance. He wasn't the one tied up naked and blindfolded and gagged to the bed; what did he have to be self-conscious about? But soon Armin's mouth was back on his chest, darting forward to his throat, and all thoughts were soon banished from Jean's mind.  
  
Armin knew how long to bite and just when to release when the pain became almost too much, right on the edge of pleasure and agony. God, it would be just like Armin to have studied Jean's reactions, to have dissected his every nerve ending down to a science. Trust the strategist to make an art out of ravaging Jean, waging war on his senses with an efficiency that was just unfair. He worked his way up the column of Jean's throat, leaving spots of searing heat and pleasure and pain that Jean knew would mark him for days (thank goodness for Scouting Legion cloaks that concealed the neck). He could be embarrassed about his hickeys later though; for now he relished the way Armin claimed him, marked him as his own.   
  
By the time Armin's devilishly clever mouth reached his ear, and his wicked tongue lapped ever so gently at the spot behind his earlobe, Jean was nearly done even without his dick ever being touched. He whined through the gag, arching his hips upward and slightly off the bed. As delightful as Armin's attentions to his upper body were, Jean was feeling pretty urgent downstairs.  
  
“Be patient,” Armin whispered into his ear, letting his lips press against the shell of it. Slowly, tortuously, Jean felt the weight of a hand rest on his chest, pressing flush against his skin to trail down his stomach and finally to wrap around his cock. Jean wished he could see what he was doing. His imagination wasn't doing such a good job at placing the rest of Armin between his voice at Jean's ear and his hand on Jean's cock, probably precisely because his hand was on Jean's cock.   
  
Armin pumped his hand once, twice, and stilled, keeping fisted around the base. Jean whined surprisingly loudly through the gag, his hips bucking almost against his will into Armin's fist. “Ah-ah, you're going to have to work harder than that,” came Armin's cruel, cruel voice, and Armin lifted his hand away, just out of reach. Jean was forced to thrust farther upward to find the circle of Armin's fingers. It was too slow like this to do anything but torture him, leave him balanced on the edge. Still, he complied with Armin's unspoken command, fucking his hand until his abs screamed with the effort of supporting himself.  
  
“Good boy,” Armin crooned, and the welcome pressure was back now, tighter and faster than before. Another hand, fingers impossibly warm against his skin, snaked around his ass to finger at his entrance. Jean's eyes, despite being covered by the blindfold, still managed to roll back up into his head. “You wanna come?” Armin's tone teasing, soft. Jean whimpered, much more pathetically than he would have liked, and emphatically nodded his head. “Then come. Come for me, baby,” and Jean was gone, barely even feeling the strain of his wrists against his restraints or the dig of his heels into the mattress as he spurted white hot over Armin's hand and his own stomach.   
  
Dimly, through the receding sparks, he felt Armin remove the gag from his mouth and the blindfold, though his eyes were still closed against the wake of the wave of sensation. He let his jaw fall slack, panting to catch his breath.  
  
“How was that? Good?” Armin bent down to look at him. He was propped up on his elbows, lying on his belly at Jean's side. At some point he had undressed as well.  
  
Jean took a deep breath and let out a shaky exhale before he trusted himself to answer. “Yeah, you could say that,” he gasped, heart still pounding in his chest.  
  
Armin's smile turned wicked. “That's good, because I'm about to start round two.”  
  
He lifted himself onto his knees and straddled Jean's shoulders, sticking his erect cock into his face.  
  
“Hello there,” Jean laughed, still feeling a bit loopy from the post-orgasmic high.   
  
Armin snorted from above him. “Do I need to put the gag back in?”  
  
“Not if you want me to do this,” and Jean took in the entire length of Armin's cock in one smooth motion. He greedily watched the expression on Armin's face go from smirk to slack-jawed, savoring the knowledge that it was his mouth that did that to him.  
  
“Damn, you look so good like this,” Armin was babbling above him, “my cock in your mouth, fucking your face, your pretty face,” and Jean felt the heat return to his belly as Armin rested more of his weight on Jean's chest. He wasn't heavy, but the pressure combined with his cock in his mouth hampered his breathing just enough to inflame the sparks of sensation building back up in his body.  
  
He took Armin in deep, closing his eyes as he touched the back of his throat. “Shit,” Armin swore, and he collapsed into a sit onto Jean's chest. “Not yet, I wanna fuck your ass first.”  
  
Jean reluctantly let him slide away from his lips, obediently spreading his legs to let Armin kneel between them. Armin briefly reached behind to grab some lube from the bedside table. He warmed it in his hands before pressing slick fingers against Jean's asshole.  
  
Jean drew a sharp breath through his nose and spread his legs wider. Encouraged, Armin pushed in and curled his fingers upward, soliciting a whimper from Jean. He could feel his cock coming back to hardness already. Armin slung Jean's legs over his shoulders to get a better angle, and how.  
  
“That's it, good boy, just like that,” Armin laughed, scissoring his fingers against Jean's prostate and drawing forth progressively more embarrassing noises from him. It almost made him wish the gag was back in, but Armin seemed to enjoy them. In any case, Jean was soon hard again just from Armin's fingers up his ass.  
  
“Armin, please,” he whined, arms shaking from how hard his wrists were jerking against the ropes.  
  
“Please, what?” Armin swirled his fingers slowly, letting Jean buck up to fuck himself on them.  
  
Jean closed his eyes, his face on fire, his entire body on fire. “Please, give me your cock.”  
  
“All right, since you asked so nicely,” and Armin was quick to oblige, replacing his fingers with his erection still slicked from Jean's mouth.  
  
Jean thrust his head back into the pillow at the slow burn of friction as Armin pushed in. “Oh fuck-!” His knees bent almost reflexively, clenching Armin closer to his hips.  
  
Armin fucked him hard and fast, no longer bothering with the teasing. Jean helplessly clenched and flexed his bound hands, teetering on the brink between pleasure and pain. It was rough and hard and Jean was nearly losing his mind from how incredibly hot Armin was when he brutally fucked him like this.   
  
“Can you come again for me, baby?” Armin panted, fisting his hand around Jean's cock again. “I want to feel you come around me, you get so tight and good,” he pounded into Jean's sweet spot again and again, sending waves of almost-too-intense pleasure rolling throughout his body.  
  
Jean might have screamed when he came. Just a little, when Armin was milking him dry with merciless pumps of his fist, still fucking him hard all the while. Fuck that, he might still have been screaming, or making some sort of wordless noise with his mouth as Armin fucked him through his orgasm and kept going even after he was spent.  
  
He was on the verge of passing out when Armin finally came, not even bothering to pretend to pull out. Jean was lost enough to forget to pretend not to like it when Armin came into him, feeling his heat fill him and spill out between his thighs.  
  
He lay there in stupidly content, fucked-out bliss, barely registering when Armin untied his hands from the headboard and kissed his wrists back into sensation.   
  
“Oops,” Armin said sleepily, between kisses to Jean's temples, “you might want to make sure you get to the showers extra early for the next few days.”  
  
Jean lazily turned onto his side so that he could face Armin. “What, you think I don't wanna show off the fact that I got laid?”  
  
“It might hurt morale, knowing that handsome Squad Leader Kirschstein is unattainable,” Armin smirked, digging his fingers just hard enough to ache into the many bites and bruises that littered Jean's chest and neck. And his shoulders. His whole body, really. Fuck, was that hot. “Since you've clearly been marked as my property.” Despite his exhaustion, a shiver ran through Jean's body at that thought.  
  
“Keep up that dirty talk, Arlert, and you're going to have to tie me up again for round three,” Jean sat up and waggled his eyebrows at him, though the very effort left his face tired.  
  
Armin furrowed his brows. “Really? You just came twice.”  
  
As much as Jean would have liked it, he was only able to flop bonelessly back down at Armin's side. “Maybe a rain check on that.”  
  
Armin smiled, looking perfectly beautiful with his sex-flushed face and mussed golden hair and wicked pink lips. “Well, you'd better make time in your busy schedule, because there are plenty more things I want to try out on you.”  
  
Jean grinned back, letting his eyelids fall shut. “I look forward to it.”


End file.
